Ethan

by Dale Mayer

  His breathing came out in raspy breaths, and she could feel his heart pounding against her chest—both reassured her. She smiled up at him and whispered, “Unless you don’t want to …”

  He lowered his head and crushed his lips against hers. She shifted as the pain shot through her shoulder, but the passion quickly caught her and dragged her back under the surface. And her shoulder ceased to exist. In fact, when she roused from his drugging kisses, she found herself completely nude, lying on the cool sheets, and somehow he was there beside her, almost stripped down. “Wow. You made that happen fast.”

  He placed a finger against her lips and then replaced it with his own, and she was caught up in the maelstrom of his passion igniting hers and taking her back under until she no longer knew where she started and where he took over. It was an experience like none other. It was more emotion than she was used to. It was less about bodies and more about feelings.

  Time flew as they tried to learn everything they could about each other. Conversation came in bits and pieces as they explored and questioned. She found the wounds on his chest, the scars on his back, the damage to his thigh, his stump. He was so adept with his prosthetic that she often forgot he was missing a leg. Every point she reached down to kiss and caress, and then asked him about them.

  He finally pulled her up to rest on top of his chest and whispered, “Maybe a little less conversation?”

  She smiled, shifted on his chest, drew her knees up to either side of him, and stretched up, resting against his erection. “We can always talk later,” she said in a teasing murmur.

  “We can also do this again later,” he said. “At least I hope we can.” He ran his hands over the top of her thighs to her hips, where he held her tight against him and started to shift.

  She covered his hands with her own, and, using his hands for strength, rose and fell as she started to ride. She couldn’t imagine where any of this had come from. Normally sex was a fast coupling, but this was learning who he was inside, at a level she’d never experienced before. It was special. It was slow. Until it wasn’t slow anymore, and suddenly she couldn’t talk any longer.

  She threw her head back and let the emotions and the passion take over. She moved as her body wanted to move, letting her emotions and her feelings take charge. When he gripped her hips with his hands and picked up the pace, driving into her faster and faster, she matched him thrust for thrust.

  Soon her body started to splinter apart; she arched, crying out as her world exploded.

  He shifted until she was underneath him, and he drove once, twice, three times, and finally his own orgasm rolled over him. He collapsed beside her and held her close.

  It was a long moment later when she whispered, “I’ve never experienced anything like that.”

  “What, an orgasm?” he teased.

  “No,” she said, shifting onto her arm. “Making love where it was okay to talk, where it was okay to ask questions, where it was okay to show emotion. Where it wasn’t just following a road map from point A to point B, so you could get there the fastest route.” She reached out to stroke a scar on his chest. “That it was okay to take time to explore and to understand, to really learn who you are.”

  He pulled her head down, so he could kiss her thoroughly. And when he let her go, she sagged against his chest.

  “That’s very addictive.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” he said with a soft chuckle. “Maybe we can do this again.”

  “I sure hope so,” she said, a yawn sneaking out of her mouth. “I’m really not into short-term relationships, so I hope you’re in for a long one.”

  He stroked the hair off her forehead and whispered, “Absolutely. That’s what I figured we were here for, … for a long time, not just a good time.”

  “How about both?” she whispered and slowly drifted off to sleep.

  He held her close as she slept, until his phone rang. He shifted her to the side and sat up grabbing his pants. Pulling his phone from his jeans pocket, he answered it. “Jimbo, what’s up?”

  “Been hearing about you and some K9 dogs. As you know I’ve been working at the US War Dog Association. I’m not sure if you’re setting up training or maybe a rescue, but I’ve got a female here. Her front leg was damaged from a mine explosion. She’s being shipped stateside, but her foster family deal fell through because she has special needs.”

  They both went silent. Ethan could hear the rustling of papers.

  “You might even know this one. Her name is Jessie, for Jezebel.”

  Ethan caught his breath in the back of his throat. “I saw her as a puppy.”

  “Yeah, she’s not quite four now. But she won’t be working in the field anymore.”

  Ethan frowned, thinking about the beautiful shepherd she’d been. Small, but she was incredibly fast and very intelligent. “You mean, because she’s missing a leg?”

  “Yeah, and she’s lost her nerve,” Jimbo said. “At least that’s what the notes here say.”

  “I’ll take her,” Ethan said immediately. “I have no clue what kind of business I’ll end up with here, but it seems like rescuing working dogs is part of it.”

  He slowly put his phone on the night table beside him and lay back down. As soon as he was stretched out, Cinn curled up at his side.

  “Why do I think this will involve way more dogs than the current four—make that five—now?”

  “Because it definitely will.” He hugged her close and whispered, “We’ll need a bigger place.”

  She propped up so she could cross her arms on his chest and look down at him. “We?”

  He reached up, flicked her nose with a smile and whispered, “We. You, me and all the dogs we could possibly handle.”

  Tears came to her eyes. She leaned down, brushed a kiss across his chest and whispered, “I’m in.”

  “I’m in too,” he whispered back.

  And they kissed, a gentle kiss, full of promise, full of tomorrows and, with any luck, full of K9s they had yet to meet.

  Chapter 16

  With Cinn sleeping gently beside him, Ethan sent a text, updating Badger. Just then his phone rang. He shifted out of bed and hopped out into the hallway, trying not to wake up Cinn.

  “Hey, glad to hear you’re doing okay. Sounds like it was bit rough though,” Badger said. “Good news on K9:01. Are you keeping the name Sentry?”

  “I haven’t given you all the details yet,” he said, laughing. “And yes, I’ve gone back to calling him Sentry. He’s been called Boris for the last while, so it might be hard on him for a bit.”

  “Maybe, but he’ll adapt. And now you’ve got what, four dogs?”

  “Yes, although a fifth is on the way. I’ve got Sentry and the dogs that came with him and Jezebel is being shipped from the War Dog Association. They are all a mix of both breeds and skills. But still, I can work with them all.”

  “That should keep your hands full.”

  Ethan winced, knowing Badger was referring to the other dogs he had said he would find. “In a way, yes,” he said. He added more slowly, “And I’m sorry, but I’m not sure I’ll go after any of the other dogs.”

  “Doesn’t sound like it,” Badger said with a laugh. “And that’s all good. We didn’t expect that. If it had worked out that way, great, but, considering you just inherited four, five dogs, … and maybe a new girlfriend, … sounds like you are exactly where you belong.” There was a pause on the line, then Badger added thoughtfully, “But it would help us if you had any idea who might be interested.”

  “Talk to Pierce Carlton. Last I heard, he was helping Jager out on a security issue, I think. Pierce has a lot of K9 experience.” Ethan paused. “We haven’t spoken much about it, but I know he spent five years heavily involved in the DOD’s Military Working Dog Breeding Program at Lackland Air Force Base in San Antonio. He was injured, and, while in the hospital, his wife divorced him and somehow took damn near everything he owned. So he’s at loose ends, trying to find a new direct
ion. This might not be it, but it could be a step in the right direction for him.”

  “If you think he’d have any interest in tracking down a dog, that would be huge,” Badger said. “I’ll call him and see what he says. We’ve got eleven more dogs to find. And now, buoyed by the success of finding this first one, it would be nice to give positive reports on the others.”

  “You’ll let the commander know about Sentry?”

  “Absolutely,” Badger said. “Stay in touch, you hear?”

  Ethan grinned. “Will do.”

  Epilogue

  Pierce Carlton took the next exit onto Highway 14, heading to Fort Collins. He wondered what he’d gotten himself into by agreeing to look for Salem, a black female shepherd who might or might not be missing. He’d been planning to come back to Colorado anyway; at least that was what he told himself. In truth he should have come back for a visit a long time ago. This was just a valid reason to do so.

  In theory, handlers and dogs weren’t supposed to get too attached. He’d snorted the first time he’d heard that because how could one not?

  Still, this dog had been last seen in the community of Arrowhead outside of Fort Collins. Hence his stop here. If he remembered right, a small café was along this main boulevard that had absolutely the best apple pie you could buy. He pulled up to the café called Marge’s and walked in. If ever a name could make you think of apple pie, it was a name like that. He hopped on in and stopped and smiled. Right in front of him was a large glass case with lots of what looked to be homemade baked desserts.

  His stomach growled.

  A portly woman walked toward him. “Well, that’s a sound I like to hear.”

  He looked at her in surprise. “Please don’t tell me that you can hear my stomach from all the way over there,” he joked.

  She smiled and nodded. “My ears are trained for that. Come on in and take a seat. We’ll get some food in that belly.”

  But he didn’t want to leave the glass case in front of him. “What’s the deal with all these treats?”

  “Well, they’re for sale,” she said. “Is that what you mean?”

  “Are they fresh-baked? Home-baked? Or brought in from a city somewhere?”

  “I bake all my own pies here,” she said proudly. “I’m Aunt Marge.” She held out a big beefy arm and a rotund muscly hand.

  He gave it a good shake and knew she did the baking herself from the strength of those arms alone. “So is there real food too, or do I just eat apple pie for the entire meal?”

  “Nope, you’re gonna sit down and have a good-size burger and some fries, and then we’ll give you a piece of pie to top it off.”

  He hadn’t been terribly hungry when he walked in, but just the sound of that made his mouth water. Obligingly he went to the table she pointed out and sat down. Within seconds he had a hot cup of coffee in front of him. “What brings you into town?” she asked.

  “What makes you think I’m new?” he asked, looking around. “I used to come through here often, promising I’d stop in to test the gossip about the best pies ever, but I never did. And I haven’t been through this town in many years.”

  “This is a small community. I know every person who lives here. The rest are mostly passing through.”

  “Well, if they know about all those baked goods up under that glass,” he said, “I wouldn’t be at all surprised if everybody goes out of their way to come here.”

  She chuckled. “Enough that I make a fine living here,” she said with a smirk, and she disappeared into the back kitchen. He could hear her talking to somebody and wondered if it was a mom-and-pop place. She came back out soon with cutlery and a glass of water. “You never answered my question.”

  “I’m tracking down a dog,” he said.

  “Purebred? For breeding?”

  Surprised by that line of questioning, he shook his head. “No, she’s a War Dog, shipped home with her handler. He ended up going to rehab and had multiple surgeries, then his wife left him. Since he can’t live on his own, the dog got lost somewhere in all that.”

  “Pete Lowery,” she said abruptly.

  Startled, he look up at her. “Sorry?”

  “Are you looking for Pete Lowery’s dog, Salem?”

  He frowned, pulled up his phone, checked the notes and said, “Yes, I am.” He twisted to look up at her. “Do you know where the dog is?”

  “It attacked somebody,” she said, staring at him hard. He didn’t know what she was looking for, but her gaze searched his, as if to see which way he would go on the issue.

  His heart sank. “Seriously?”

  She nodded, her face grave. “I’m not exactly sure what happened, but she bit a man in the leg,” she said. “She might still be down at the police security yard, locked up,” she said. “There was some talk about putting her down, but I haven’t heard the outcome on that.”

  “Who could I talk to about it?”

  “You’ll have to talk to the sheriff,” she said. “Give him about a half hour, and he’ll probably pop in here for coffee and pie.” And, with a smirk, she left again.

  Pierce sat here, slowly stirring his black coffee to help it cool and wondered what would make a dog like that attack someone. Most likely a scenario where the dog was cornered and felt threatened or somebody she cared about was threatened. Pierce frowned, thinking about that until Aunt Marge came back out with a heaping plate of burger and fries. Curious, he asked, “Do you know the story behind the dog attack?”

  “Something to do with Pete’s brother, I think,” she said. “Rob said the dog didn’t do anything wrong, but two guys were just talking to him, and apparently the shepherd took a dislike to one of them and attacked him.”

  “Dogs often see a threat we don’t quite understand,” Pierce said in a neutral voice.

  “I don’t know all the details,” she said with a shrug, walking over to the counter, returning with mustard and ketchup for him.

  He nodded his thanks and picked up a fry and crunched it. He loved crispy fries. And these were hot and tasty. He dumped ketchup on his plate and proceeded to plow through the fries. When he was almost done, he picked up the burger and slowly worked his way through the beefy sandwich.

  The meal was excellent. He’d come back just for the food. Aunt Marge returned, refilled his coffee and his water, but she didn’t stop to talk this time. A couple other customers came and went, so it was steady but not terribly busy. Pierce was just about done with his burger, putting the last of it into his mouth, when a sheriff’s car drove up. Pierce wondered at the timing. The sheriff was a bit early today apparently. Aunt Marge greeted him as he sat down and poured him a cup of coffee, then pointed over at Pierce and said, “He needs to talk to you about Salem.”

  The sheriff snorted. “If there was ever a dog that deserved a bullet, it’s her,” he said. He looked straight at Pierce and said, “If you come to collect her, you’re too late. Somebody already stole her from the yard.”

  Aunt Marge gasped. “What? Now who’d do that?”

  Peirce studied the sheriff’s face. “Any idea who or when?”

  “A couple months back,” he said. “And, no, we have no clue who. Cut the fence and let her free. Hope they took her out back and put a bullet between her eyes. That’s all she’s good for.”

  Aunt Marge nodded in agreement. “So true. Last thing we need around here is dogs attacking innocent people.”

  Or rather people attacking dogs, Pierce thought to himself. But no use getting into that discussion here and now. Not until he knew the full story. But there were two things he did know: men attacked others without provocation, and dogs only attacked out of need.

  Pierce highly doubted the dog would get an honest hearing with the sheriff though. That man had already made up his mind.

  This concludes Book 1 of The K9 Files: Ethan.

  Read about Pierce: The K9 Files, Book 2

  The K9 Files: Pierce (Book #2)

  Just because helping out is the right t
hing to do doesn’t make it easy …

  Pierce is on the hunt for Salem, a K9 military dog that belonged to Pete, a veteran, who can no longer look after himself or the dog. So the dog has been handed from owner to owner—until she’s become too much to handle—and now the law is involved. No one has Salem’s best interests in mind … and they definitely don’t have Pete’s either. Pierce is about to change all that … whether they like it or not.

  Hedi, a young deputy, has lived in Arrowhead, Colorado, all her life and knows Pete and Salem but was helpless to do much when greed overtook his friends and family. She recognizes in Pierce the same qualities that Pete has, and, by Pierce’s actions alone, she knows a corner has been turned. She also understands the locals won’t take it lying down, and this means war …

  Pierce served his country overseas for many years, and seeing another veteran in trouble makes him realize the fight isn’t over, even after life in the navy ends. In fact, this battle has just begun. But … this one … Pierce will finish. And he plans to win.

  Book 2 is available now!

  To find out more visit Dale Mayer’s website.

  Author’s Note

  Thank you for reading Ethan: The K9 Files, Book 1! If you enjoyed the book, please take a moment and leave a short review here.

  Dear reader,

  I love to hear from readers, and you can contact me at my website: www.dalemayer.com or at my Facebook author page. To be informed of new releases and special offers, sign up for my newsletter or follow me on BookBub. And if you are interested in joining Dale Mayer’s Reader Group, here is the Facebook sign up page.

  Cheers,

  Dale Mayer

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